


Crumble

by Banshee1013



Series: Suptober 2019 Ficlets [10]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Emotionally Hurt Dean Winchester, Gen, Heavy Angst, POV Dean Winchester, References to Depression, Season/Series 15 Spoilers, Whiskey & Scotch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-30
Updated: 2019-10-30
Packaged: 2021-01-13 00:29:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21235133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Banshee1013/pseuds/Banshee1013
Summary: Ficlet to accompany Suptober art.Day 29: PoisonPost-15.03 Angst.





	Crumble

**Author's Note:**

> Art can be found [here.](https://banshee1013.tumblr.com/post/188691889782/suptober-day-29-poison)

The amber liquid sloshed as he absently swirled the glass, the ice clinking against the sides.

"Dean… are you…"

I swear to Go… Dean cut the thought off. No swearing to that asshole anymore.  
But so help him, if Sam asked him if he was ok ONE .MORE. TIME…

He threw back the remaining liquor in one gulp and slammed the glass on the table, cutting off the rest of whatever Sam was going to say.

"Need a shower." he barked curtly, his eyes still trained on the glass. "Why don't you… I dunno, go get us more beer or something?" Without looking to see if Sam acknowledged the request, he stalked out of the Library, headed toward the showers.

Found the sink and leaned against it, knuckles white as the surrounding porcelain as he clenched the sides, eyes cast down to avoid the mirror over it. 

The distant booming sound of the Bunker door slamming lets him know Sam had decided following Dean's "request" was the better part of valor. 

He was alone.

Not like he wasn't *always* alone. Especially now. 

He felt the crack - the one that had started this morning as he woke up in a lifeless, empty Bunker - began to widen, and he clutched the sink harder, willing it to close.

It wasn't working. 

He shoved off the sink, turned to the showers and turned it on hot.  
Angrily whipping off the overshirt and throwing it in the corner, followed in rapid succession by the t-shirt.

Pulled off each boot and threw them as hard as he could against the bathroom wall, the loud thud echoing through the room.

It wasn't working. The crack widened a little more.

Thrust pants and underwear down and kicked them away in the general direction of his shirts. Peeled off the socks and, defeated, left them where they lay, and stepped into the steaming water.

Turned it up as hot as he could stand it, and let it pour over him, the water pounding on his face and flooding down his chest. 

It wasn't working.

He faced the shower wall and angled the showerhead so the water would pound his neck and shoulders, and leaned his forehead against the wall.

It has to work. He can't crumble.

He is the Rock. The one that holds up everyone else. The one everyone else crumbles against, the one to pick up the pieces and put them back together again. 

But what happens when the Rock, the foundation, begins to crumble?

Oh, he could lose a chip or two. Pick them back up and stick them back on, glued back on with booze, or bacon, or bullets. But cracks…cracks were another matter.

Cracks required help to seal. And everyone he could rely on to help seal those cracks was gone.

It was never Dad. Dad taught him that it was ok to chip but you better glue that shit back on before the cracks formed because there was NO TIME FOR CRACKS. Sammy needed him.

It was never Sam. Oh no, it could *never* be Sam. His only real purpose in life had been to be Sam's Rock, for Sam to crumble against. Sam could help him glue the chips back on, but that was it. 

Sam could NEVER know about the cracks. 

Then, for too short of a time, it was Mom. She saw the cracks but never pointed them out, sealing them without a word or effort. But she was gone, gone forever.

The crack widened further, and Dean stifled a sob. 

NO. He couldn't. He couldn't cry.

A few tears leaking out here and there, through the tiny fissures and chips in the granite… that relieved pressure. He could fool himself into believing it was just the water from the shower running down his face.

But if he cried… REALLY CRIED… he would shatter. Shatter like crystal. 

And he would never be able to find all the shards. Never be able to piece them all back together.

Gasping in ragged breaths to hold back the tide, he slid down the wall to his knees, the steaming water now pounding the back of his head. 

The crack was widening and he had no one to crumble against.

No one to help him seal it back up.

At one point, he thought the Rock he could crumble against was Cas. The one mighty enough to raise him from Hell, literally. The one that stood with him and Sam stand against all the forces of Heaven and Hell in not one but TWO Apocalypses. Who stood with him against the very Darkness.

The one that stood with him against GOD. 

But then he chose Jack over him and Sam… over MARY. 

Dean could almost understand it. How many people had *he* betrayed to protect Sam?  
But he could never FORGIVE IT.

And now Cas was gone as well. Forever.

And there was NO. ONE. ELSE. And never would be again.

What does the Rock do when there's nothing… no one… to crumble against?

Dean's shoulders shook with the effort of holding back the tide.  
Preventing the transformation from granite to crystal. 

He pulled his knees against his chest and squeezed. Applied pressure.

No time to be crystal. No more time to be granite.

He had to become UNBREAKABLE.  
He had to become DIAMOND.

By sheer force of will, he stilled the shake of his shoulders.  
Pushed and pushed against the tide that threatened to shatter him, pushed against it until it began to harden, the cracks to seal.

As he rose from his knees to stand, a final surge of force and will launched his fist against the shower wall, the sharp sound of the cracking tile providing the final bar of pressure to seal the crack. 

Seal it in diamond hardness. 

What does the Rock do when there's nothing to crumble against?

It forgets crumbling was ever an option.


End file.
